


Your will is not your own

by Doitsuki



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Armor Kink, Awkwardness, Cold, Death Knights - Freeform, Dom/sub, Frostmourne Makes An Appearance, HECKIN KINKY be warned, M/M, Master/Servant, Mild Humiliation, Power Kink, Uhm, fiddly diddly handjobs, more fun times in the Ebon Hold / Acherus, sexy undead peeps, very cold
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-17
Updated: 2016-07-26
Packaged: 2018-07-24 11:58:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7507408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doitsuki/pseuds/Doitsuki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Highlord Darion Mograine likes to believe he is a powerful, dignified man. The Lich King has other ideas. Darion's into it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> there are dicks, be warned

Highlord Darion Mograine stood in the center of the Ebon Hold. He had his eyes fixed on the pink portal just a few feet away from him, the only splash of colour that wasn’t blue, black or green. New recruits were due to come from there any time now and seek his counsel. Every day, he hoped it wouldn’t be an influx of idiots that barely passed the lowering bar of standards to become a Death Knight. He glanced to the left. Seasoned Knights were waiting on various things, be it knowledge, weapons or food. They responded with aggression when spoken to but not one dared to bitch at him. Darion sighed. Barely any one challenged him these days. In undeath he had gained so much power that fights were a trivial annoyance. Knights, servants and ghouls all bowed to his whims. The only person who didn’t here in Acherus was the Lich King himself, who was nowhere to be seen.

_‘Probably doing a bit of balcony-gazing. I won’t bother him. Perhaps I have some time to check the command table.’_ Darion looked right to the table carved out of black stone sitting near the runeforges. A few necromancers had gathered around it and were flipping through pages, writing notes on some of them. _‘I won’t be missed at my post, since these recruits are taking their sweet unholy time…’_ Unarmed yet looking mighty intimidating in his full set of polished plate armour, the Highlord made his way to the table. Everyone around stepped away to allow his large figure all the space in the world. A few sweeping motions later and Darion had found himself a book of recent conquests in Northrend.

_‘Hm, these reports are looking good. Perhaps a few promotions are in order.’_ As he read, the air chilled and the necromancers slunk into the shadows. The ghouls skittered away, and many Death Knights stiffened where they stood. _‘Ah. Finally, peace.’_ Darion rested an elbow on the table, sticking his butt out in the process and allowing himself to relax. And then he felt the sharp edge of a blade poke into the lower back of his breastplate.

“!!” He straightened up at once. Behind him, a deep rolling laughter sank into his helm, permeating his very soul.

“Your will is not your own… yet you find time to slouch, _Highlord_?” The Lich King drew Frostmourne away and closed the distance between himself and Darion.

“N-no, of course not!” Darion shook his head, not daring to turn around. “I… was merely making myself more comfortable…”

“You have no _need_ for comfort.” Chill smoke poured from the Lich King’s glowing blue eyes. “Tell me… why do I find you _wanting_? Has it not been purged from your weak little mind?”

_‘Weak! He dares call me WEAK!’_ Highly offended, Darion squeezed his eyes shut. The Lich King saw this despite being behind him – there was no longer the green glow from the Highlord’s tainted eyeballs.

“Remember…” Slowly, the Lich King leaned his weight on Frostmourne and pressed his face into the back of Darion’s neck, whispering under the rim of his helm. “I see all. I know what you feel.” His teeth clamped around the metal, causing the entire thing to crystallize with ice. Darion began to tremble.

“I understand.” The Northrend report book was closed and slid away, nearly knocking over a pile of parchment. “Forgive me.”

“There is nothing to forgive.” The Lich King rose, and lifted off Darion’s helm with his teeth. He cast it aside and as it hit the ground with a loud _clang_ , several heads turned. “The fact remains. You _want_. Death Knights are not supposed to.”

“Will you kill me, then?” Darion opened his eyes, a tightness in his face causing every muscle to clench beyond the point of reasonable stress. “Kill me for my weakness?”

“I have use for you yet.” The Lich King’s leather gloved left hand came up to brush through Darion’s soft, silvery-blonde hair. “A servant who wants… can be put to certain tasks.”

Darion breathed in. “Such… as..?”

“That depends.” The Lich King spoke quietly into Darion’s ear, cold lips brushing against smooth flesh. “What do you want?”

“….” Darion said nothing. He didn’t want to think of what he wanted lest his Master see but of course, the moment he tried to restrict his thoughts, they came. As they came, the Lich King obliged with a hidden smirk. Cold fingers went through his hair down to his neck and further along his breastplate, over the sharp edges without a care.

“How amusing.” The Lich King murmured, licking an icy trail along Darion’s neck. “My most loyal servant is a whore.”

“N-no!” Darion shook his head, face nearly turning purple with embarrassment. “I… I assure you, these… thoughts are only here because of what you’re doing!” That gloved hand now had a little condensation on it and began to undo the straps that kept Darion’s breastplate together. At each side they were undone, as were the cuisses that fell to the ground. The Lich King then cast aside Darion’s pauldrons, now free to toy with the Highlord’s upper body as he saw fit. Darion was so very cold, shivering with restrained desire.

“Shall you beg for a cleansing, little harlot?” That deep, echoing voice in Darion’s ear was less frightening and more arousing at this point. Especially now as the laces of his padded tunic were being undone, exposing his neck a little more…

“Master, please.” Darion hissed. “Please, not here.”

“Oh?” The Lich King curled his fingers around Darion’s throat. “Whyever not? Your fellow servants will not judge you for this. After all, it is only _natural_ to want to submit to your Master…”

“Let me… keep my dignity…” Darion gasped. The tightness around his neck constricted him enough to bring about fear, though he did not need to breathe to survive. “They… they are watching…” In actual fact, nobody but the necromancers dared to watch, and the senseless ghouls who didn’t know better. The Lich King laughed, straightening up while Frostmourne shimmered in the ground. He removed his own helmet but kept it near out of habit, his own white-blonde hair spilling around his massive pauldrons. The bluish-purple tint of his skin was rarely seen, and those who were watching now paid closer attention. He then tore off his one glove with his teeth, throwing it onto the table. His entire body pressed into Darion with immense strength and weight, forcing the Highlord to bend. Darion’s throat felt empty without his Master’s firm grasp upon it.

“Mmm…” The Lich King hummed as his hand ventured lower to the unarmored space between Darion’s thighs. “How curious. To think that one with frozen blood can still rise as you do…”

There was indeed an unmistakable hardness that the Lich King handled as he did his runeblade. Darion moaned softly, aching for his Master’s touch. It was rare that his own desire coincided with the Lich King’s will to pay attention to him. Now, it seemed he was going to either be humiliated or… ah. There wasn’t really a choice.

“ _Master…”_ Darion tilted his head back, resting it on the enormous skull that kept the Lich King’s left pauldron attached to his breastplate. He could feel the cold, hard metal against his own skin and because the differences in power were so great, it brought about a unique sensation. Like tingling snowflakes melting down the back of his neck, chills ran through Darion from head to toe.

“You _like_ this, don’t you?” The Lich King’s voice was saturated with rich mockery. He slipped his hand into Darion’s breeches and stroked him, languid and teasing. “Even under the eyes of Acherus, you _want_. Tsk. How shameful.”

“There… is no shame in wanting _you_ …” Darion whispered, trying to thrust into his Master’s hand. But with his entire body bent over the command table and locked in this position with the Lich King behind him, he could do little more than writhe. He closed his eyes, feeling frustration build as the gentle touches sated little of his growing desire.

“Good.” The Lich King admired his servant’s ability to complain less and feel more. He growled only for Darion’s ears to hear. “You’re such a good little _slave_.”

“Mh!” Darion’s pursed lips parted into a shocked grunt. He hadn’t expected praise so soon, after such a long deprivation of it. The hand around his length _squeezed_ , starting a rhythm of slow pulls. While all this was going on beneath the table, the Lich King had Darion’s head thrown back half over his chest and left shoulder. Darion’s back was curved in an angle that would break lesser men. The Highlord turned his head to the right, enough to see that his Master was watching him. With his mouth half open and frosty breaths clouding before him, he looked a proper sight for mockery. The Lich King smirked, his ancient face twisting into a cruel grin.

“What else does my slave want, hm? I wonder.” His hand snapped Darion’s cock up out of his breeches and into the air, where he ran a finger along it and then left it alone. Darion Mograine, Highlord of the Scourge, _whined_ like a kitten in a puddle.

“Neeeehhhh… Master, don’t…”

“Don’t what? I see what you want, and what you want is for me to bend you over this table and _fuck you beyond necromancy’s grasp._ ” The indulgent cadence of his voice weighted every word with a serious threat. 560% threat, to be exact. Oh, and Darion _wanted_. He could see it clearly in his mind, though it was gradually being tainted by his Master’s will. Completely subservient, Darion gave up. He could always kill anyone who made fun of him later.

“Don’t tease me. Please take what you will from my body.”

“Interesting way to put it.” The Lich King laughed softly, for he knew Darion was not one for waxing lyrical dirty talk. “Though… I do not deem you worthy.”

Darion whipped his head aside to glare at his Master. “What?!”

The Lich King stepped back and grabbed Frostmourne, using a spark of arcane energy to lift his helmet onto his head.

“I would like to play with you some more. Come.”

So Darion did, glaring at the Death Knight recruits standing around the pink portal. They watched the Highlord pass with his dangly bits hanging out and said nothing at all.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> smut smut smut

Darion struggled to walk as he was lead to the highest floor of the Ebon Hold. He waddled a little with his head held as high as possible, face flushed a dark purplish-red. The Lich King activated a circular elevator set in the floor that was patterned with symmetrical skulls all around it, rising on the platform with Darion behind him. Darion gazed about at the cold black and blue walls lined with sharp, curving bones and the higher he rose, so too did the anticipation in his body. It was not his place to speak, not even as the Lich King strode forth off the platform and across the dark throneroom. The imposing throne was lit by his command, two black spiked iron braziers holding dancing blue flames. Here the air was chill and foreboding, and Darion followed without a word behind his Master. He absently noticed that his dick was getting cold, remaining stiff as it bobbed with his slow steps.

The Lich King turned and set Frostmourne beside his throne before slumping into the wide seat. He kept his helm on and tilted his head to the side, glowing eyes the only indication that he was paying attention to Darion. His heavy, thunderous voice echoed throughout the vast room.

“Come.”

Darion stepped forth and was about to climb into his Master’s lap like he had done once previously when the Lich King’s will halted him.

“You will sit when you have earned it. _Kneel._ ”

The Highlord fell to his knees of his own volition, though it was the Lich King who mentally pushed him down in such an abrupt manner. Darion looked up at his Master with hazy, half lidded eyes. Smirking down, the Lich King slowly parted his massive, armored thighs. With both arms set on the armrests of his throne, it was clear he had no intention of doing a thing himself. He was so absolute and confident in his power that he didn’t even need to speak to have his will done. The gestures of his body were enough. Darion leaned forwards, lifted up the long dark sash that covered his Master’s crotch and flipped it up, tucking it into the eye of the skull on his Master’s belt. There beneath a thin veil of scalemail and soft black fabric was a teasing play of light suggesting some serious arousal. Darion plucked at the neatly tied bow to undo the strings of his Master’s leggings and breathed in awe as the Lich King’s cock greeted him. It was a thick, magnificent column of light purple flesh with a cold darkness at the tip. He shuffled a little closer on his knees, his greaves scraping against the hard floor. The Lich King watched expectantly, wondering if Darion was going to admire him all day or actually do something. Darion licked his lips and breathed in. There was the scent of ancient, musky desire along with the acute sensation of lifeless chill. Along the slender veins of the Lich King’s cock, there was a light blue glow. Darion wondered if his Master had ever stuck his dangly bits into a Runeforge before. The Lich King had chosen that exact moment to read his mind, and growled.

“Get _on_ with it!”

Darion peered up and felt in his undead heart a semblance of control. Usually, he was too far gone in his own desperate need for release that he did not see the Lich King reach the heights of pleasure himself. But… to see such a mighty being come undone by his own ministrations. _That_ was something worth looking out for.

“Yes, Master.” Unwilling to seem like a quivering harlot, Darion followed his quick but reverent reply with a parting of his lips. His tongue went out to lick the tip of his Master’s huge length and it was like licking a fleshy ice cube. Up and down his tongue laved, and for a time Darion enjoyed the taste of immeasurable power and chilling restraint. The Lich King grunted, sending suggestive thoughts into his servant’s mind to urge him towards a more satisfactory endeavour. Without thinking, Darion’s lips closed around the head of his Master’s cock and went down as he began to swallow. It was a good thing he’d learned to unhinge his jaw like so many of his undead Death Knight students. Now, he could take the Lich King’s frosty column to the back of his throat, and having no need for air, rested comfortably with it. It was so _filling_ not to mention familiar to have his face buried in his Master’s crotch. Here, he could forget about memories and wars and enemies, all of it. There was only the duty of pleasing his Master, and that he focussed on with glee. His own knees spread and his back arched, ass sticking out as he strove to close whatever distance existed between himself and the Lich King. Moving his head back and forth, his lips and tongue worked as if consuming the last meal he would ever have. Come to think of it, cock was really the only thing he ate these days. He had no need for actual food.

The Lich King could feel a delightful suction encompassing his length and enjoyed the sensation, which could be likened to sticking one’s dick into a slurpee. A very tight, welcoming and obedient slurpee. He slowly leaned back into his throne, closing his eyes.

“Ohhhh…” The sound filled Darion’s mind and soul, which belonged to his Master more than it ever had to him. Hopeful, the Highlord peered up to see white smoke coiling from the Lich King’s helm. That was a good sign. Ice was crystallizing around those armoured thighs, and the glowing veins were starting to pulse softly. Darion pulled back and sucked at the dark tip of his Master’s length, pushing his tongue into the slit at the end. He licked something sensitive for sure, because the Lich King’s huge body jerked and his armour made a sharp shrieking noise. In the flickering light, Darion could see his Master’s mouth slightly agape along with frosty white breaths coming in short puffs. A thrill ran through his body as he licked again, and was rewarded with a long, unrestrained groan. He could feel the tension building as flickers of impatience touched his mind. Darion kissed the tip of his Master’s cock.

“Mm… does that feel good?”

“Yesss…” The Lich King hissed. “Nh… come here.” He lifted a finger and at once Darion was sitting in his lap. He had to lean a little and let his servant remove his belt for convenience’s sake, but soon enough it was clear what was happening next. Darion paused.

“Master, a moment if you will to remove my--”

“Silence!” In a flash the back of Darion’s breeches were burned away, and only curling smoke remained. The Lich King smacked his beloved servant’s bare, cold ass and felt the taut flesh quiver at his touch. “Now………”

Before Darion knew it, his entire body was chilled from its very core. With his Master inside him he was woefully stretched, forced to spread his legs to kneel better in the Lich King’s lap. He squeezed his eyes shut, gasping softly.  
“Ah!” His back was turned to his Master and he gripped the armrests of the throne, or at least tried to before the Lich King took control. Powerful hands clenched around his waist and pumped him up and down, making Darion glad for his lack of fragility when it came to this kind of thing. Anyone else would have had their spine snapped from the sheer force of the Lich King’s desires. But not Highlord Darion Mograine. No, he was the _perfect_ slave to his Master and the Lich King reminded him with delicious whispers in his mind. Darion tried to focus on how his Master was reacting rather than the sound of his own heavy panting and soft, feeble cries. The Lich King grunted as he thrust his servant down upon his cock, stabbing him with what felt like a thick column of ice. Blue swirls of energy snaked around Darion’s stomach, slightly distended from the enormous length within. Darion let his Master guide him and began stroking himself, moaning jagged syllables out as he was mercilessly used.

“M...a..aaaah… s…s..s….t..e…..r…”

The Lich King groaned deeply in reply. “Urgh…” It seemed he could not form any taunts and only moved his servant faster. “Rrrrgghhh…. Darion…”

To hear his own name fall from the lips of the greatest being he’d ever known was pure ecstasy for Darion. That, and the Lich King’s voice was drop dead (and be resurrected) sexy. Visions filled Darion’s mind as his Master began to get carried away – there he was bent over and fucked to his base components, then touching himself for a sinful public display, then slaughtering his enemies nude and bloodied… several atrocities followed, and Darion relished every one of them until his Master broke through his thoughts with a breathless command.

_“Come for me, my slave.”_

Darion cried for his Master as he found release, stiffening all over for a mere second before violent shudders wracked his body. He sprayed silvery, ethereal liquid all over the floor and knew he was going to be licking it clean later. Then he felt it, a surge so cold coupled with a groan so deep it could only be success. The Lich King unleashed a mighty torrent of _liquid nitrogen_ inside Darion and turned him into an icy statue at once. Darion, frozen in a state of orgasmic bliss, felt like he was going to die from the overbearing sensation. Oh well. What was one more time to an undead Highlord?

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And then the Lich King put Darion to sit on a brazier and thaw out whilst being in a good mood for the rest of the day. THE END!

**Author's Note:**

> good lord i am embarrassed, never written any characters like this before xDDDD


End file.
